


anathematiC

by Tetracontagon



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, joshler - Freeform, more will be added as we write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11583312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tetracontagon/pseuds/Tetracontagon
Summary: Anathema - something or someone that one vehemently dislikes.This word seems to suit how Tyler feels about Josh.-i am your worst nightmare. how does that make you feel, tyler?





	1. //my pretty sleeper//

Silhouette. That’s the word for it. The fluently dark shape of a being against another much brighter matter. It was human, yet alien at the same time; there was something about it I could not quite understand. It shrunk and grew deformed, as if leaving, then suddenly – eyes. Bright eyes that glowed a harsh orange colour radiated over my form, allowing me to faintly see the outline of my own legs. The eyes were charismatic, showing more emotion than I ever thought was possible. Anger, joy, depression, excitement... you name it, it was there – except something was different. Those eyes seemed to reflect a screen on my chest, as its face gave away that it knew more about me than I knew of myself. This silhouette was a being which could not be sung away with a song like I had done with other problems of mine, and that terrified me. 

 

Finally, it dawned on me that the figure was now leaning over me, with its face mere centimetres away from that of my own. I tried to scream but no sound came out; I was falling, falling, but the ground seemed centuries away-

\----

 

My eyes sprung open and tears stung my eyes – had I been crying in my sleep? Sitting up, I looked down at my pillowcase in dismay – the fabric was soaked in a mixture of sweat and tears which seemed to multiply with every fear that plagued my mind during the night. 

 

The time was 7:06, approximately one hour and nine minutes before I had to be at school. I had no motivation to go to such a place; not much motivation for anything, really. I had lived most of my life like this until the nightmares began, just an empty, grey husk which had experienced few emotions. I got out of bed and took off the shirt I slept in, throwing it into a basket which held all my dirty clothes. Sweat glistened over the black tattoos of rings on my left arm and wrist, two weeks fresh, marking the date of my first nightmare, and also signifying the hold they had over me. I had a quick, cold shower and slipped into fresh clothes, made myself a simple breakfast, picked up my pre-packed bag and headed to school, unable to forget what I had experienced.

It was on my mind all day. I could not focus on a single lesson, and sat alone in a bathroom stall at lunch; yet another result of these unforgiving nightmares. It almost felt as if the humanoid shape with the glowing eyes was now my shadow, yet a somehow better shadow than the one I was already cursed with. Heading home was the usual drag. Homework didn’t clear my mind, just made it harder to think. Food was gravely eaten, then I sunk into bed.

\----

 

Eyes. The eyes were there. The light behind the silhouette had turned into the shape of an open door; the rest of the environment came into focus. They were in a room with old fashioned wallpaper depicting magnificent trees bearing golden plums. A mirror leaned against the wall to my left, and the right was bare. I was sitting on a chair of oak wood, and the silhouette stood. It walked towards me and a yellow light flickered on behind me, illuminating the  _ person  _ in front of me. His milky chocolate eyes were surrounded by red; ears pierced and messy hair dyed yellow. Tattoos ran down the sleeve of his right arm. 

 

He studied me carefully; walking in circles around me, leaning over, _looking at me,_ ** _judging me,_** ~~ ** _killing me_**~~ – he stopped. Barked out a single word, **“Sing.”**

 

I was frozen, too scared to move, and I choked on my own saliva. He repeated himself –  **“Sing.”** No response from me, I was terrified. He growled, slapped me – my head turned to the mirror. 

 

My neck was black. The dark void crept up from below my shirt to stopping just below my jawline. I hated singing when I wasn’t alone and I pleaded with myself to just wake up, to end this state of mental torture, but then I sang. I wasn’t controlling it, my thoughts just spilled out of my mouth, and were drawn out into a cracked tune. 

 

“Won’t you go to someone else’s dreams? Won’t you go to someone else’s head?” He looked confused – did he not know what he was doing to me? 

 

“Haven’t you taken enough from me?” 

 

Silence. I didn’t sing further; if he was controlling the singing he didn’t want to hear any more.

 

\----

 

I sat up, gasping, breathing ragged and irregular. I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. The condition of my throat scared me – it was sore and tender, as if I had been singing all night. I sucked on a butter lozenge as I made my way to school that morning, dazed and drowsy. Though the smooth medicinal lolly eased the burn in my throat, it couldn’t cure the illnesses in my mind. 

 

The first half of the day was generally normal, until Mr. Stone’s psychology class. He informed the class of a new student, something our school didn’t get very often. I nearly choked on my throat lolly when  _ he _ walked in – messy, bright yellow hair just like that of a highlighter, milky chocolate eyes, and the edge of a tattoo peeked from underneath the right-hand sleeve of his hoodie. I couldn’t believe my eyes; he couldn’t be the one I had dreamed of, but he  _ was. _

I suddenly snapped back to reality; I’d been staring at him. He was seated next to me now, staring expectedly. Had he asked me a question? 

 

“Uh, I’m T-Tyler, and you should be on page 273.”

 

I heard no response from the boy, and turned my head to focus on the page. A shiver sprinted down my spine, I was almost sure that he was staring at me, but I lousily attempted to ignore it. Conflicted feelings battled in my brain, and unable to focus on the teacher’s words, I gathered the courage to look up at him. His eyes had never left my face, and I reacted by snapping my attention to the teacher at the front of the room.

 

“Joshua! Can you kindly not distract your partner from the task at hand and pay attention to my explanation, please,” Mr Stone drawled warningly, his hazy eyes boring into the boy’s- Josh’s- skull, but Josh seemed to be immune to his glare when I glanced over at him briefly.

I had stopped paying attention the moment I heard the word ‘partner’. I had a wild moment of intense internal panic, ranging from repressed screaming, to exaggeratedly distorted thoughts and everything in between. My brain collapsed, and before I knew it, I had opened my mouth.

 

“ _ Fuck _ .”

 

I noticed Josh giving me an incredulous look from the corner of my eye. I shrunk into my seat, only just realising that I had proclaimed the summary of my current mood out loud into a room filled with so many people better than me, who probably think I’m just a joke now, _oh god_. 

 

Or not. Most people seemed to not hear, but Mr Stone was giving me a suspicious side-eye. He directed his attention elsewhere soon enough, however, so I felt safe.

 

At least, I felt safe until Josh grabbed my wrist in a grip that wasn’t really that tight, but I felt electricity and pain rocket down the length of my arm. My nerves were shot, and I almost didn’t hear his question over the pounding of my heart and his steely brown gaze. 

 

“Dude, seriously, you’re being so weird. What is up with you?”

 

I didn’t know how to respond to his question, because I had no idea why I was reacting in such an unusual way. I thought quickly and settled on a response that sounded normal for a social interaction.

 

“I’m okay, I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”

 

Josh was silent for a second but then seemed to accept my reply. An egg was placed on his desk, and a black permanent marker on mine. Looking around the room, I tentatively guessed that this was an activity where we had to take care of the egg; glancing at the board ahead confirmed this fact, and the egg had to last for the week. I felt my spirits sink. Josh interrupted my self-pity with his stupid, smooth voice with such a ridiculous, innocent question. It made me want to… I don’t know what it made me want to do. 

 

“What should we call him?” 

 

“Jim?” I responded quickly, using the first name that came to mind in my panic to be useful in the project.

 

There was a sparkle in his eyes and excitement in his voice when he next spoke. “How about Spooky Jim? Our egg’s gonna be unique!”

 

“That’s sick, dude. Sick as frick,” I responded, a small smile spreading across my face. 

 

He grinned, and I had no idea when he got so close but there were centimetres between our heads, and I found that I didn’t mind. “Sick as frick! I like that.”

 

The shrill sound of the school’s bell startled me, ruining whatever that… moment between us was. I was glad, I didn’t want this, this was complex and new and, god damnit, I don’t have friends for a reason. I hastily gathered my belongings, before bolting out the door with a brisk wave to Josh, who looked bewildered and slightly hurt.

 

The ‘dream boy’ was hidden from me throughout the rest of the day. I don’t want to say I was disappointed, although it did save me from the confusing feelings it would bring if I did encounter him again. 

 

Once I returned home, I sat on my bed and opened my psychology book to review the assignment worksheet we were given. My fingers flitted through the pages, searching for the sheet, until a small, folded scrap of paper fell onto the bedsheets below. I froze. I hadn’t put that in there, and I had no clue to how it got there until I opened it. 

 

‘04xx xxx xx7 hi ty, txt me if ur lonely :) -joish’

 

I blinked, before tossing the scrap beside me uncaringly with a snort. Trust Josh to misspell his own name. I grabbed my sketchbook instead, finding the first empty page. This book was precious and always travelled with me, so therefore its pages were saved for only the most important images. I stared at the blank sheet in front of me, feeling slightly overwhelmed. I always feel this way when I have the capability to do great things from almost nothing, just a pencil and paper. 

 

I touched the graphite to the paper, and let my mind carry my hand through the sweeps and strokes of an intricate sketch. I lost myself, barely realising what I was drawing before I suddenly snapped back into reality when I recognised the person I had half-drawn. 

 

I had drawn Josh. Out of everything my mind could have produced, it was Josh. I huffed grumpily, setting my sketchbook aside as I glared at the wall and moped. Why Josh? I don’t even like the guy! 

 

My eyes drifted to the scrap of paper beside me. No, terrible idea, Tyler stop thinking about that. 

 

I grabbed my phone without thinking and typed a simple ‘Hello, it’s Tyler’. I punched in his number and hesitated before hitting send. I threw my phone across my bed, distracting myself momentarily and then cringing when the device vibrated with a response.

 

‘sorry, i don’t know who you are…’

 

My blood suddenly froze in my veins. Did Josh give me the wrong number? Did Josh trick me? Was Josh laughing at me, mocking me for being so gullible? My dark train of thought was interrupted by the phone buzzing in my hand. 

 

‘just kidding, it’s josh! hey, we still need to give our egg a face and stuff’

 

I felt relief wash over me, almost as if it were a wave. ‘And stuff?’

 

‘;)’

 

I groaned, wondering if I should even reply, when he texted me again.

 

‘wanna come over tomorrow?’

 

My breath hitched, and I felt my heart skip a beat. It didn’t mean anything, I was just caught off guard. ‘Yeah, sure, why not? :^)’

 

‘awesome!’ 

 

A moment later, Josh had texted his address, as well as a time when we could meet. I quickly saved it in a contact for future reference, adrenaline thrumming in my veins. I barely managed to notice the time, but when I did, I realised it was nearly ten at night. I excused myself to Josh, explaining that I was going to bed through a brief text. I had just climbed under my covers when I felt the buzz of his reply.

 

‘goodnight, see you tomorrow :)’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the fic! some things to note:
> 
> \- my great buddy and i will update as much as we can but because school SUCKS there's no schedule or anything  
> \- tyler's perspective is in first person but when a chapter/segment focuses on josh it's in third  
> \- yes i know we're being lazy with the grammar in these notes but wRItINg iS hArd oKaY gOsH


	2. //i want to drive away//

Josh was infesting my imagination once again. Everything was the same, except a piano was to my right. He stood up straight, and stared at me. I looked to the mirror and saw that the dark void had left my neck, now occupying my hands, and disappearing into the sleeves of my shirt. Glancing down at my hands, I was hypnotised by the black so dark that it was as if my hands were now in 2D. When I finally looked up I saw that I was seated in front of the piano, and I sensed Josh behind me. 

 

“Play it.” 

 

I froze up again, I just couldn’t do it. Between the confusing emotions of the day and the fact that he was also in my nightmares, I was too afraid of judgement. The nightmarish Josh placed his hands over mine, but quickly recoiled when my heart began to race. Heated air brushed over the back of my neck and he didn’t touch me again, I was on my own.

 

I took a deep breath. This is just in my imagination, right? I began to play a slow tune, without any vocals, my hands drifting over the keys slowly. I played so smoothly it was as if I didn’t press the keys, despite my heart hammering in my throat, but I felt the weight of the ivory under my fingers. I felt Josh’s presence hovering behind me, and my blood was a static rush in my ears. I felt his fingers brush my neck, his hands coming up to close around my throat, and I felt my heart stop beating. 

 

\----

 

I jolted awake, feeling a phantom sensation of pressure around my neck. More fears, more tears, and straining, complex questions plagued me. I felt bile collect in the back of my throat, and I lurched out of my bed, stumbling through the darkened hallways into the bathroom. I folded in front of the toilet, emptying my stomach into the shallow water. I braced myself on my forearms, my body trembling and sweating as I panted. I slowly straightened, quivering violently. I glanced up at my reflection briefly, before looking back down at the toilet.    
  


I felt my heart stutter as I realised what I saw. I looked up, my eyes wide and red, and stared at my… reflection? No, that couldn’t be me.

 

I looked just like I did in my dreams. Black paint, or shadows, or whatever it was, were coiling and creeping out the collar of my flannel pyjama top, and when I ripped my shirt off to see how far down it went, I saw that my hands were smeared in it too. I realised with lead in my stomach that I wasn’t looking at shadows. Black streaks and smudges appeared on everything that I touched. I felt tears welling in my eyes, overflowing and trickling warmly down my cheeks. At least crying was the only thing happening that I was used to, I thought bitterly. 

 

I felt the urge to rush out of the bathroom, and I followed it, but not before I glimpsed my reflection again, and all I could see was darkness contrasting against the pale white in the bathroom, and the blur of my face as I fled from the room. 

 

I eased the door shut behind me, leaning against it with a deep, shaky sigh when I heard it click. I sunk to the floor, holding my head as I shook, tears still flowing.

 

Eventually I calmed down enough to lift my head without fearing my sobs would be heard. I stared out the window in my bedroom, counting the stars as best as I could as I let my mind wander and mull over the dream. The fact that he had retaliated had confused me greatly, although not as much as my conflicting feelings about him confused and irked me. 

 

I cursed myself for wishing I’d see Josh’s smiling face outside the window. The yellow-haired boy had a greater impact on me than anyone else I'd ever met before. Honestly, I thought, it was terrifying.

 

I looked back down at my hands, still covered in black. I didn't understand why it wouldn't go away and just  _ leave me alone. _ I buried my face in my hands for a second before shakily standing and stumbling to the side of my bed, unplugging my phone and writing a text to Josh,  only realising what I was doing once I was about to press send. I stared blankly at the brightly lit screen but couldn't bring myself to send the message - heck, we’d only known eachother for less than a day, he would think that I was crazy. I fell onto the bed, and soon enough, the phone dropped from my hands as I fell into a deep slumber that was surprisingly free from any nightmares.

 

\-----

 

For the entire day, I couldn't wait for that afternoon. During break times, my eyes searched for Josh's sunny hair instead of acknowledging the usual PDA and mindless blabber at my table. Every buzz from my pocketed phone made me jump with a moment of excitement from the possibility of it being a text from Josh, then an unwanted twinge of disappointment when it wasn't. 

 

As soon as the school day was over I took my time in heading to where he lived, not wanting to look too eager. I knocked on his door exactly three minutes and eighteen seconds late, shifting my weight from side to side and looking up when he opened the door to his home. 

 

“Hey, Ty! Come in, my family won't be here until the end of the month. Oh, by the way, do you have a curfew?” 

 

“Oh, uh, my parents don't live with me so I can be home whenever,” I muttered, walking inside and following Josh to his bedroom. I froze when we reached the doorway.

 

“The wallpaper is really old fashioned, it sucks. I'm gonna paint the walls a simple colour as soon as I can, since I really can't stand the designs anymore.”

 

It was the bedroom from my nightmares. I suddenly choked up and couldn't breathe, my eyes glazing over. The room was exactly the same, down to every little detail.

 

“Hey, dude, are you okay?” Josh asked with concern laced into his posture. His eyebrows were taut, closely knit with worry.

 

I couldn’t respond, I just hacked out air and fell to my knees. I felt heat, and I distantly noticed his hands were on my shoulders as he shook me into focus. I coughed in response, not daring to look up at him after making an embarrassment of myself. 

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, thanks,” I said, my words tumbling out in a rush. “Just… surprised, I guess.” Josh still didn’t look convinced, even after I gave him a shaky smile. 

 

“Dude, if you can’t be here it’s okay, we can go somewhere else…” Josh said softly, his eyes warm and concerned. I shook my head, adamant about staying.

 

“No. It’s fine, I’m fine,” I replied quickly, searching almost frantically for a subject change. My gaze landed on the piano that was tucked into the corner of his room. It was small, but still shined in the dim light and took my breath away. “You… you play the piano?” 

 

"The piano was a late birthday gift from my parents, they bought it for me last week and it arrived yesterday. I don't know how to play it though, but I'm not really interested.” Josh gave a small smile and shook his head slightly, his colourful hair catching my gaze like a light.” Are you into music?" He asked. I was glad to have a chance to honestly talk, even though I could watch the way the light shines through his hair all day. 

 

"Yeah. I can play the piano, I taught myself. I don't really like playing in front of other people though..." I trailed off, staring at the ground.

 

"You can play it now if you want, I won't judge!" I cringed at the thought. Josh must have seen it as he stood from his bed and put a gentle hand on my shoulder.

 

“Hey, it’s okay! You don't have to if you don't want to." I breathed a sigh of relief and released the tension in my shoulders.

 

"No, no, I will, it's just-" I took the egg from his other hand and drew a simple face on it with the marker while Josh watched curiously.

 

"When I play the piano alone, I'm happy because it's just me and the music, I can play whatever I want however I want. But-" I cut myself off, using my thumb to smudge the face on the egg until it was a mess of dark patches. "When I'm about to play around people, I just shrink, and I hope that they'll like it and then I think, what if they don't? And what if they just don't like the song, or what if I mess up or what if I suck at playing the piano or I break something or-" I had been spitting out my words in a rush, but I stopped, finding it difficult to breathe. I clamped my mouth shut and took a deep breath, looking up from the egg. "I just can't do it. I want to disappear, or at least hide myself from them, and  _ die _ .”

 

I don’t know why I told him this, what was I thinking? This isn’t the stuff you tell someone you practically just met and know nothing about. Especially not someone you see in your dreams, too. Letting my heart drain out to him immediately lifted a weight off my chest, but it returned just as fast, because what if he thought I was  _ weird _ or  _ different _ or  _ deranged _ or - 

 

Or, he could hug me. I froze, but his touch made me want to melt.  _ Why?  _ I had no clue. 

 

“Holy- Tyler, that sounds really difficult to deal with, I’m sorry that you ha-”

 

I cut him off, I couldn’t hear it for any longer. I breathed a quick response before forcing my way out of his arms and leaving abruptly. “No,  _ no,  _ you don’t understand, this was stupid, I need to go.” I walked the journey home, not stopping when the skies opened and it began to rain. I ignored all questions thrown at me when I got home, and shut myself in my room with stifled sobs wracking my body. I didn’t need Josh’s goddamned pity, and I don’t need  _ him _ . 

 

_ Why are you so damn stupid, Tyler? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating in forever! we're trying :o


	3. //there's an infestation in my mind's imagination//

After that hard-hitting afternoon, Josh didn’t understand why he couldn’t focus on anything. He’d forgotten to complete homework that night, turned up late to school the next day, and most importantly, he couldn’t forget Tyler. Ever since he had walked into that psychology class, the fragile boy hadn’t left his mind. He still made small talk with his peers in other classes, but his schoolwork was left blank - he didn’t have the motivation for it. A soft sigh was released from him when he checked his phone for the upteenth time, seeing that the many messages he’d sent Tyler weren’t read yet. 

 

“Hey, dude, are you doing okay? Class is over!” A new friend of his, Brendon, quickly snapped him back to reality. 

 

“Yeah yeah, calm your forehead, Beebo, I was checking something.” Josh gathered his empty sheets quickly, stuffing them haphazardly into his binder then tucking it into his bookbag. They had lockers, Josh just preferred to use a bag. 

 

Brendon wiggled his eyebrows, leaning over Josh to try and sneak a peek at his phone. Josh shoved him away with a snort, shutting his phone off. 

 

“We’ve gotta go break into my locker, too.” 

 

“Seriously, Urie? Did you forget your code again? At this rate you’ll even be forgetting your middle name!” Josh retorted, leading the way out of the music classroom. It wasn’t long before they reached Brendon’s locker. 

 

“Nice going, Dun. Real great,” Brendon had responded when Josh had accidentally hit his friend’s face with the door of his own locker. 

 

“Oh, shut it,  _ Boyd _ .” Josh said as he sorted through the cramped space, attempting to ignore the other boy forcing his locker open. 

 

“No, this is a serious matter, do you seriously want to be held responsible for damaging my perfect features? A face like this, chiselled from the very bones of  _ gods _ , and you slam a metal sheet into it with no care at all? How will I ever make it onto the record charts with a broken nose, Josh? They won’t-”

 

Brendon’s ramble stopped short, his words dying away into an involuntary squeak. Josh peered from around his locker, his eyes narrowed, but he had to suppress laughter when he saw the direction of Brendon’s gaze. 

 

Brendon’s eyes were focused on a slim brunette with petite features, who Josh is pretty sure is in his music class with him, but doesn’t know the name of. Ray? Rick? Something like that. Josh could see a red flush creeping up Brendon’s neck, his eyes wide and his pupils blown slightly. 

 

“Dude? You good?” Josh asked, his eyebrows creeping into his colourful hairline. Brendon visibly jolted, his fingers startled into hastily fumbling with the code on his locker once more. Josh swallowed a snicker and smirked at Brendon, leaning his weight on one leg. “Something caught your attention, Boyd?” 

 

Brendon flushed, the faint pink turning into a pale crimson. “Shut up,” he muttered, succeeding in his task of breaking into his own locker, wrenching it open with a dramatic huff. 

 

“Do you even know that kid?” Josh asked, leaning further to catch a fleeting glimpse of brown hair hugged by a hippie-themed headband. Josh looked back at Brendon at the right time to see his eyes wandering down to the  ridiculous tight brown pants the mystery boy had on. Josh snorted and Brendon’s gaze snapped up instantly, the flush spreading to his cheeks. Josh almost felt bad for his friend. Almost. Josh almost forgot about Tyler for the first time that day.

 

Almost.

  
  


Meanwhile, all I could see was white. It was everywhere, there was almost no escaping it, until it changed, dripped a harsh red, almost the colour of blood. It seeped through the roof, flowed through the walls, pooled underneath me, until it covered everything. I had the uncanny feeling that I was being watched. I squeezed my eyes shut, confusion and anxiety racking my brain.

 

**_why would anyone watch you, tyler? nobody cares._ **

 

No. No,  _ no, no _ . It was the voice from my nightmares, the voice of nightmare Josh. How’d it get further inside my head? Why is it there? _ What does it want from me? _

 

**_yes, oh yes. i am your worst nightmare, tyler. how does that make you feel?_ **

 

I curled up into a ball, my hands tangled throughout my hair as I tried to suppress the voice. Goddamn it, why did I skip school today?  _ Josh _ .

 

“Leave me alone!” 

 

**_is that the best you can do? not very impressive. you’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me. not that you can do much of anything, of course._ **

 

I bit my lip with force.  _ Goddammit Tyler, think!  _ A drop of blood emitted from the small wound, and slowly slid down my chin.

 

**_there we go, that didn’t take long._ ** **_just like you in bed_ **

 

Blood. I’d found it. He wanted  _ blood.  _ Forcing my eyes open, my bedroom stood before me, and I raced into the bathroom. Throwing open cupboards, I took out a razor blade from the small box they resided in and quickly stripped of my clothes, turning on the shower, then stepping under the flow of water.

 

**_hurry up. you don’t have all morning, unless you like letting people down. idiot._ **

 

My hand shook as I brought the blade to my wrist. I inhaled sharply as I pressed the blade to my skin, splitting my flesh under the blade, watching the blood begin to wash off my arm and down the drain.  _ Slash, slash, slash.  _ I continued until exactly twenty-one red lines spanned perpendicular to my wrist along my lower arm.  **_what a stupid place to do it, now they’ll all know about it, keep it hidden, you’re an idiot_ ** . I stood breathing heavily for what could’ve been a few seconds to several hours, until I realised the voice was  _ gone. _

 

_ It was quiet. There was finally silence. _

 

I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off automatically while my mind was miles away, images of blood streaming down my arm, dripping and dispersing into wisps of crimson in the shower water flashing endlessly into my head. My vision spun, and blood was still dripping from my arm onto the cold tiles beneath my feet. I gripped the edges of the sink, watching my own blood flow slowly into the basin, creeping down the drain and out of sight. I gazed up and into the mirror, where my foggy reflection gave me the name for whatever I had just experienced.

 

**_blurryface._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter than i would've liked, but i'll make sure the next one's got at least 2k words! and yes, there's some ryden heating up ;3

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the fic! some things to note:
> 
> \- my great buddy and i will update as much as we can but because school SUCKS there's no schedule or anything  
> \- tyler's perspective is in first person but when a chapter/segment focuses on josh it's in third  
> \- yes i know we're being lazy with the grammar in these notes but wRItINg iS hArd oKaY gOsH  
> \- this is also posted on quotev!! give it some support >> https://www.quotev.com/story/9963335/AnathematiC


End file.
